


Safe House

by rivkat



Category: Covert Affairs
Genre: Eight crazy nights, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkat/pseuds/rivkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for the prompt: Annie's life is usually lived at high speed. What do bored agents get up to when trapped in a cargo container or a missile silo, or a canadian shack for days? (The odd-couples try not to kill each other version, the team-mate-bonding version, or the smut version - whatever you like.)  Most of the above?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leyna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyna/gifts).



Without his cane and on uneven ground, Auggie had been even more tightly focused than usual during their flight. Several times while they were trekking upwards, Annie had felt his hand tighten hard enough on her forearm to leave bruises. Each time he’d quickly forced himself to relax, even though she hadn’t been about to complain.

Eyal stayed with Auggie while Annie did a quick check around the cabin, searching for footprints or other signs of recent intrusion. When she returned, they were talking quietly, Auggie’s hand still on Eyal’s arm. 

“Annie,” Eyal said, and they both turned towards her. “I was just suggesting that we find Auggie here a stick he could use until he gets back to his own equipment.”

“While I thank you for your concern,” Auggie said, with the raised eyebrow that suggested he was only partially thankful, “now that we’re up this mountain, I shouldn’t need to bring a stick into our safe house. Though if we can find a branch that’s straight enough and strong enough to be whittled into shape, I’d consider it. At least it would give me something to do for the next few days.”

She could see Eyal absorbing the implicit reproach: Auggie knew what he needed, and wouldn’t be shy about telling them. Eyal, she thought, knew a great deal about being underestimated.

Eyal nodded at her. “Can we go in?”

“Think so,” she said. “Everything seems peaceful.”

Auggie let Eyal lead him to the door, which Annie opened with the key that had been taped to the underside of the second window on the left.

“A cabin in the woods and some good company,” Auggie said, “a perfect way to spend a long weekend.”

“And you’re sure your agency will come?” Eyal asked. It hit a bruise, yes; none of them could really trust their respective employers to save them if other priorities intervened.

“Yes,” Auggie said firmly, and Annie didn’t add her own less certain assent. “Three days off the grid, and they’ll be back for us. In the meantime, I could use an introduction to the layout.”

Auggie was a hell of an operative, she thought—the ability to use truth to further his agenda was something she was just learning how to control. She walked him around the small space, exploring the tiny kitchen, the bedroom—only one bed; someone was getting the couch, and Annie was not looking forward to that negotiation—and the bathroom. The place was fully stocked, if you counted one toothbrush as fully stocked. They wouldn’t go hungry in three days, at least.

They didn’t talk about Eyal. Even if he hadn’t been in a position to overhear, they wouldn’t have needed to. Annie trusted him to wait here with them, and that was all the trust she needed right now. It didn’t mean anything more than that.

“So,” Auggie said when they’d finished the tour, “who’s up for KP duty?”

Eyal ended up cooking, with some commentary on peculiar American incapacities and preferences for eating out. It was a small price to pay for getting a decent meal out of freeze-dried and canned provisions.

Annie washed the dishes, with Auggie drying as she handed them to him. The night was still young; she felt that after-action adrenaline. If it had just been her and Auggie, they would’ve been making love in the soapsuds already. The thought made her flush, and Auggie must’ve felt the rise in her pulse, because he ran his fingers up the inside of her wrist, which definitely didn’t help with the flushing.

Eyal coughed. Annie didn’t drop the last plate, but it was a near thing.

“Well, I’m exhausted!” Auggie said brightly. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, face turned in Eyal’s direction. Oh good, she thought, male dominance displays. She wasn’t going to kid herself into thinking that she was going to stay mad at Auggie long, but she still wasn’t looking forward to the next few minutes.

“I take it I’m getting the couch?” Eyal asked.

She looked over her shoulder, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “If you have something to ask, you should come out and say it.”

“No, I’m happy for you,” he said, with that peculiar lightness he got when he was completely lying, usually for what he thought was her own good.

“Auggie and I are _honest_ with each other,” she said.

“I don’t doubt it,” Eyal agreed. Always so agreeable. So charming. 

Beside her, Auggie was silent. Letting her take the lead. She loved that, how they could switch off as needed. She turned so that they were shoulder to shoulder, and he put his hand on her arm, not caressing this time but just supporting her.

“I don’t mind taking the couch. You should seize every moment, in this life.”

Annie couldn’t deny that the thought of Eyal so close that he’d have no choice but to listen sent a thrill through her—maybe it was that she spent so much of her life under surveillance already. But here it would be because she chose to, because she wanted him to know that she was still ripping a life out of the scraps the Agency left her. 

Eyal grinned at her, only a little sadly. “Everything you feel shows in your face, you know. I thought I’d seen how you were when you were in love. But I’ve never seen you look like that.”

That was jealousy in his tone—but not exactly what she’d expect if he …

She remembered how Eyal had interacted with Auggie when they’d been on a mission. How he’d unhesitatingly offered his arm and waited for Auggie to take it, how he’d smiled.

She was a good agent because she was rarely wrong about people. “You’re still on probation,” she said, because he’d hurt her and he might again—mercenary or back to Mossad, there was still a high probability he’d be on the opposite side from her in the not too far future. “But you can watch.”

Auggie’s fingers tightened on her arm. “Do I get a vote?” he asked, not exactly angry, but genuinely curious.

“Absolutely,” she said, and waited. Eyal was completely still. If she’d read him wrong, this was going to get very awkward. But Eyal said nothing; she couldn’t even have sworn that he was breathing.

After a moment, Auggie nodded. “I don’t want him touching you,” he said. “Not tonight.”

There was that dominance thing again, but she didn’t object as long as it was time-limited. “What about you?” she asked. “ _I_ don’t mind.” 

Auggie tipped his chin up. “Eyal?”

Eyal raised his hands and spread them wide. “I’m yours to command.” His voice was already lower, husky with promise. God, she was already wet.

“Then we have some ground rules,” Auggie said. “Shall we?”

She took his arm and led him into the bedroom, Eyal following so close behind she almost felt his breath on the back of her neck.

“I think,” she said, making it a tease, “I want to see a show.”

Eyal’s eyes were hot on her as he waited for further directions.

“Take my clothes off,” Auggie ordered. Annie backed away so that she could watch; Eyal stood in front of Auggie and unbuttoned his shirt. Auggie’s muscles never got any less delightful to contemplate, and she was aching to touch them, but the anticipation was even better.

Eyal sank smoothly to his knees—she could see his fighter’s moves, repurposed—and unbuckled Auggie’s belt, then went to work on his jeans. Auggie put a hand out, supporting himself on Eyal’s shoulder as Eyal helped him get completely naked.

“Very nice,” Annie said. Auggie was already mostly hard.

“Come here,” he said, this time to her, and she did. He stripped her more quickly, not interested in making a show, and they kissed, skin to skin and upright. She leaned into him, strong and hard against her.

… And he staggered a bit, making her remember just how hard they’d all run earlier. “Okay, bed,” she suggested, tugging him by the hand and pushing him down into the center of the queen-size. He was a work of art on top of a cheesy green quilt.

“I want Eyal to kiss you,” she decided, instead of joining him immediately.

Eyal obeyed, positioning himself so that he was mostly just next to Auggie, bracing one hand on the other side of the pillow and holding himself up so that the only parts touching were their lips. It was a filthy kiss, filthier because Eyal was still clothed and Auggie was gloriously nude. After a minute, Auggie’s hips started to pump uselessly into the air. Annie knelt next to him, opposite Eyal, and ran her hands over his stomach, his chest, his shoulders. The helpless, wanting noises he made through the kiss only cranked her own desire higher.

“My turn,” she said breathlessly. Eyal pulled away, his eyes unfocused, and got off of the bed so that she could climb on top of Auggie, giving silent thanks to her IUD. The shock of penetration made her gasp, and then she was moaning continuously as Auggie cupped her breasts in his hands and thumbed her nipples, just the way she liked. She bit her lip as her back arched involuntarily, and Auggie moved underneath her, completely in tune.

“Get yourself off,” Auggie ordered Eyal, through gritted teeth. “I want to hear you.” 

Fabric rustled as Eyal complied. She could hear him even over the sound of her own panting, and the wet slap of their sweat-slick bellies together as she leaned in, closing in on her own orgasm.

Eyal said something in Hebrew—Annie filed the word away, to look up later—and God, she could _smell_ him, so close—

Her head filled with light. Auggie’s hands tight on her hips. He thrust up, so hard she was going to be sore after, and groaned, his biceps cording as he came.

She collapsed on him, and abruptly had a case of the giggles, which felt weird but fun with him still inside her. Auggie chuckled too, and shifted so that she slid off and to his side, her arm over his shoulder.

After a minute, she looked up. Eyal was wiping his hand on a handkerchief and carefully not staring.

“Eyal,” she said. “Come here.”

He smiled just a little. “It’s a small bed.”

“There’s room if we snuggle. And I like to snuggle.”

She could see Eyal visibly calculating: will she be hurt if I say no, will _I_ be hurt if I say yes, what if the CIA comes early? But she won; he came to the bed, still in his T-shirt and boxers. (She would’ve thought that Mossad was inherently boxer-briefs, but apparently not.) Still following Auggie’s earlier directive, he eased himself in so that Auggie was in the middle, and Auggie shifted just enough to make room.

“Next time,” Auggie said, “I’m going to have my hands on you the whole time.”

She imagined that, his clever fingers between them, maybe wrapped tight around Eyal where he was inside her, and she would’ve tested that out right then if she hadn’t been dealing with two exhausted men who, in all fairness, had been through some life-threatening and physically strenuous events in the past twenty hours.

“Tomorrow?” she asked, hopefully.

Eyal’s sleepy chuckle was a promising enough answer. “You and your enthusiasms, Annie Walker,” he said. “You’ll be the death of me yet.”

She leaned over and kissed Auggie, who smiled and turned his head in Eyal’s direction. “Yeah, she probably will. But what a way to go.”


End file.
